CHAPTER 325: PESKY

For a moment, Violet was stunned, unsure of what to say as she rose to her feet. Uva stood up as well, though her posture and silence made it clear—she had no intention of interfering. She was there to observe, and nothing more. Anything beyond that, and her life might be at risk.

"At least give me some time to think about it!" Violet pleaded, her voice lined with strain, a worried expression pinching her face. She stared at the woman before her—Lady June—who held her gaze in cold silence for several long, suffocating seconds before finally replying.

"You have a few days," Lady June said curtly. "Send your decision through Uva."

Her displeasure was plain in the tight line of her mouth, the flicker of annoyance in her narrowed eyes. She turned on her heel, clearly ready to leave, but paused mid-step when Violet’s voice broke through the tension once again—this time softer, uncertain, but deeply personal.

"By chance..." Violet began slowly, almost hesitantly. "Purely by chance... do you have a daughter?"

The words hung in the air like a stone tossed into still water, rippling outward.

Violet’s voice was calm, but inside she battled a whirlwind of emotion. The resemblance was undeniable, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Whoever her real mother was, she had been abandoned by her. And even if she did find her... it didn’t mean she would be wanted.

"A daughter?" Lady June repeated, her brow creasing sharply in confusion. Her frown deepened, and for the first time, her icy composure cracked slightly.

"Is there a reason you’re asking me such a personal question?" she asked, her tone edged with suspicion.

Violet opened her mouth to explain—but stopped. A breath escaped her lips as she shook her head instead.

"No reason," she said quickly, her voice soft and guarded. "I was just... curious."

She forced a polite smile. "Thank you for coming, Lady June."

Uva gave an exaggerated sigh, her exasperation written clearly across her face. Violet didn’t even notice.

Uva understood what was going on—at least enough to piece things together—but still chose not to interfere. Instead, she walked over to the table, picked up the wine bottle, and poured herself another generous glass, taking a long sip without a care in the world.

Lady June didn’t say another word. She simply turned and walked out of the bar, her presence fading like a passing storm.

Violet couldn’t stop watching her go.

It wasn’t until Uva’s voice broke the silence that Violet turned her gaze back to her.

"Something wrong?" Uva asked, settling back into her seat with a deliberately innocent expression on her face. "You keep looking at her."

Violet shook her head, forcing herself to snap out of it. "I can’t go to the Coven," she said quickly. "You know that better than anyone."

Uva shrugged, her fingers still wrapped around the wine glass. She took another sip before finally speaking.

"I can only tell you one thing," she said, her tone suddenly serious. "There’s no one I know who can heal Cain the way Lady June can."

Then, in the privacy of her thoughts, she added with dark amusement: ’Mostly because she poisoned him, but that aside...’

"If you want to save Lord Cain," she continued aloud, "then you have to consider it."

Violet frowned. "Cain would be furious if he knew I even met with a witch. You know that."

Uva didn’t even hesitate. She shook her head firmly.

"Exactly. Which is why you’re not going to tell him," she said, locking eyes with Violet.

"Or..." she added after a pause, a sly glimmer appearing in her eyes, "you could heal him first, and then tell him."

Her voice softened, her tone suddenly gentle and reasonable.

"This is a good deal, Violet. Anyone else, and Lady June would have demanded an arm and a leg."

Violet didn’t respond immediately. Her mind was spinning with thoughts and doubts, weighing everything, until someone approached their table.

A waitress. But not the same one who had served them earlier. This was a different girl, moving with an easy smile on her face as she approached.

"Is there anything else you’d like to order?" she asked cheerfully, her voice light and pleasant.

Violet answered almost by instinct, her tone edged with impatience.

"No, thank you. There’s nothing else we want—" But she stopped mid-sentence, her words faltering as her brain caught up with the voice she’d just heard.

She jerked her head up, eyes wide in disbelief.

Standing in front of her, wearing a waitress uniform and holding a notepad, was Sarah.

The same Sarah she hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime.

Sarah’s eyes widened in shock the moment she saw Violet. Her mouth opened, and the question flew out before she could stop herself.

"Who are you? Why do you sound like my sister?" she asked, voice trembling with emotion.

She stared at Violet as if she were a ghost. That voice—it was hers. It was Violet’s. Sarah had heard it a thousand times. There was no mistaking it.

Violet, for her part, was stunned—but barely reacted. Of all people to run into, Sarah was the last person she wanted to see.

She reached into her bag, pulled out her card, and spoke coolly.

"Process the bill. We’re leaving," she said, her tone flat and condescending as she fixed Sarah with a dismissive look.

The expression seemed to ignite something in Sarah. Her mouth opened to respond, anger burning in her eyes—but she stopped herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her manager watching from behind the bar. One wrong move and she’d be out of a job.

Swallowing the words, she bit her lip and processed the bill. A moment later, Violet rose from her seat, Uva trailing behind her.

But Sarah wasn’t done.

"You’re Violet," she said again, louder this time. "You’re my sister. Aren’t you?"

Her voice cracked slightly, caught between disbelief and hope. She had seen something flash in Violet’s eyes. Recognition. Surprise. It had been there.

"You know me! You can’t—"

But Violet didn’t answer. She walked to the door without looking back.

She didn’t care. The last thing she needed in her life was her sister—or any other member of the family that had sold her away like she was nothing.

It was already generous that she wasn’t going out of her way to fire her—or worse, break her legs.

Sarah looked like she wanted to follow, but fear held her back. She knew the rules. One step outside her role, and she’d be unemployed something she couldn’t afford to be at that moment.

"I can’t fix her memory right now," Uva muttered, catching up to Violet, "but I can later." she whispered to Violet as she glanced back at Sarah, then at Violet’s darkening expression.

"Such a pesky family," she thought bitterly as they walked out of the bar.